Internet Friends
by YerASlutWill
Summary: AU fic,In which a psycho Sebastian stalks Blaine over Facebook. Based off the song Internet Friends by Knife Party.


**This drabble (If you can even call it that) is based on the song Internet Friends by Knife Party (: The Italics are lines taken from the song. Reviews are much appreciated :) **

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><p>"...Okay, I love you. See you tomorrow baby, Bye" Blaine smiled as he hung up on Kurt, his boyfriend.<p>

He stood up from his bed where he'd sat for the last hour and moved to the desk, turning his laptop on, tilting back on his chair as he waited for the device to power up.

He got online and went straight to Facebook, where he saw several notifications awaiting him as well as nine mails. Blaine could guess who they were from, his stomach and the rest of his internal organs sinking.

He clicked on his messages, opening up the correct page and frowned at how creepy the messages were. It was like something out of a horror film Blaine had seen once. It reminded him of the documentaries you see on tv about serial killers and psychos.

"_Come now, surely we can be friends"_

"_I know so much about you, I love you."_

"_Look at everything I've done for you"_

"_You'd be nothing without me"_

"_Why won't you answer me?"_

"_I bet you're busy talking to some fucking slut. Fucking skank"_

"_Is she hotter than me?"_

"_Will you fuck me?"_

"_Are you gay?"_

On the other side of town, a boy by the name of Sebastian Smythe was sat at his computer. He was tall and unshaven, his clothes days old and wrinkled. Old pizza boxes littered the floor as well as underwear and clothes. The room hadn't been cleaned in months. He smiled sickly as he went through each and every one of Blaine Anderson's profile pictures, saving each into a folder. He checked his mailbox on Facebook every minute, almost like it was a reflex, just as natural as blinking.

But he frowned every time he met the page filled with nothing but his words to the elusive Dalton Warbler. Why wasn't he replying? Sebastian was clearly the best looking boy in Ohio, even with stubble and dirty clothes. A tic was going in the taller boy's cheek as he stared obsessively at a particularly attractive picture of Blaine.

It showed the boy at the beach with his boyfriend, 'Kurt' or whatever his name was. Blaine was standing hand in hand with Kurt, dressed in simple red board shorts, no shirt, just a toned torso, tanned to perfection and waxed, of course. Kurt was wearing tight denim jeans that cut off at his calf, with a blue checked shirt, just the bottom three buttons done up. Bit plain for the Hummel kid? They were at the beach though, Sebastian thought, cutting his enemy some slack for once. He saved the photo and then edited it so Kurt was cropped out, and Blaine remained, standing in the screen with his hand held out bizarrely to someone who was no longer there, thanks to Photoshop.

An animalistic growl tore through Sebastian's body as he went to click on Blaine's profile to be met with the dreaded "This page is currently unavailable"

Something in him snapped and Sebastian knew he should take his meds. Hell he should've taken them ages ago, but he didn't. Meds doped him out, made him another person. With medication, he didn't feel like Sebastian.

The tall boy stood up sharply and pulled out a black suit from his closet. He pulled it on quickly and picked up the .45 out of his dad's closet, walking out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him.

Meanwhile back at the Anderson residence, Blaine was desperately pacing his room, trying to forget the mail that was burned into his mind. Sighing, he flopped onto his bed, pulling out his phone when a flood of texts came in from an unknown number. He read one of them and threw it across the room upon realising who it was from.

There was an aggressive thud on the door downstairs and Blaine was suddenly wishing his parents were home. Though he hated them, he probably would have felt safer with them about, didn't most kids? But why did he feel unsafe? He lived in a well to do area of Westerville, no miscreants usually hung out over here. A sense of dread was taking over his body and he didn't know why. It was like his brain was preparing itself for something bad.

There was another thud and then his phone started ringing with the same unknown number. Blaine was terrified now, shaking and crying. Then there was a smashing noise from the front door followed by a tinkle of glass hitting the floor. Blaine yelped, running into his bathroom and locking the door, dialling 911, his hands shaking.

There was a thump on each step as someone walked up slowly. Then, the step stopped and a clear voice rang out:

"You blocked me on Facebook and now, you're going to die."


End file.
